


homecoming waltz

by wingchestr



Series: homecoming waltz [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: (brief) - Freeform, All of the things, Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Apocalypse, Blow Jobs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, M/M, Reunion Sex, Reunions, Smut, Tender Sex, Zombie Apocalypse, happy crying, no one dies, sexual crying, the softest apocalypse you ever will read, there aren't even any zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-06 16:16:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11039763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingchestr/pseuds/wingchestr
Summary: Yuuri finds Viktor again after the end of the world.—“I never gave up on you,” Yuuri says, as Viktor’s warm fingers creep under the hem of his shirt, and Yuuri raises his arms, letting Viktor pull it off over his head. “Never, Vitya,” because it suddenly seems important, “I never stopped believing that I’d find you.”Except some part of him did, he’s realizing, some part of him dedicated to his own self defense had started believing that Viktor was gone, to protect himself and harden his heart against his barren future, lacking all color and light. A part of him that’s melting, now, like snow in the spring, rushing away under Viktor’s lips and hands.“I know,” Viktor whispers, kissing Yuuri’s chest, unbuttoning Yuuri’s pants, “my brave, strong Yuuri, I know you didn’t.”





	homecoming waltz

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [homecoming waltz](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11647002) by [Yuusana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yuusana/pseuds/Yuusana)



> guess who said they hated apocalypse AUs and would never ever write one? surprise surprise it was me. anyway here's 5k of a softpocalypse all about hope and love
> 
> 8,000 thanks to my stunning beta, [keskasi](http://archiveofourown.org/users/keskasi/pseuds/keskasi), whom you can find on tumblr at [streewisehercules](http://streetwisehercules.tumblr.com) and [sliktordickiforov](http://sliktordickiforov.tumblr.com) (nsfw).

Yuuri holds out his hand, watching the dappled sunlight skim over his skin for a moment as he walks. Leaves crunch softly under his feet. It puts a funny feeling in his stomach — he’s reminded suddenly, forcefully, of walking underneath shady trees with Viktor, holding hands, Viktor’s bright eyes, his smile and his laugh—

Yuuri balls his hand into a fist and drops it to his side, pushing away the memories. It does no good.

It’s been months, now, since the dead started walking, and the likelihood that Viktor is out there somewhere diminishes with every passing day. Yuuri’s taught himself to stop hoping. There’s only this moment, and then this one, and then the next, and then before you know it another day has passed.

And Viktor is still gone.

Yuuri hefts his pack higher onto his shoulder and keeps walking. He catches Marya watching him and tries a small smile, to reassure her — a little curve of his lips. It feels like moving someone else’s face.

He drops his gaze back to the ground, to the trees around them, watchful. He likes Marya. As difficult as this world is, it must be more difficult for a teenager, who was still trying to find herself when everything she knew was turned upside down. Or maybe it's easier for her — she hadn't built a life for herself yet. And she still has her father, Alexei, who is walking in the front of their small party, a large bearded man who carries most of their provisions on his back. They're good people. Yuuri wants to keep them safe.

Ahead of him, Alexei stops suddenly, holding up his hand, and Yuuri freezes, his hand going to the hunting knife strapped to his thigh. He quickly scans the area around them, but he doesn’t see any movement. That doesn’t necessarily mean anything — the trees limit his visibility. Next to him, Marya hefts her hatchet in her hand, frowning.

“I think I heard something,” Alexei whispers, nodding up the incline towards the road. They’ve been following it for several days now, walking in the woods beyond the edge of the pavement to avoid attracting unwanted attention. “Voices.”

Yuuri raises an eyebrow. The undead do a lot of things, but they don’t talk. He nods in the direction of the road, a quick jerk of his head, and Alexei goes, followed by Marya, who grimly stalks up the slope. Yuuri brings up the rear, watching behind them to make sure they aren’t being followed by anything.

Alexei goes ahead, crouching in the brush while Yuuri and Marya wait slightly below.

“Careful,” he whispers when he returns, making the hand gesture that means _people_ , and then holding up five fingers. Not the undead; five real, living humans.

Yuuri moves past him silently, slipping up to the edge of the road to flatten himself against a tree, breathing deeply. With the dead, you know what to expect; the living are wildcards. Mostly, the other survivors they’ve encountered have been approachable, but there have been some decidedly unfriendly ones as well. And with Yuuri’s group of three, their odds of fighting five are not good, if it comes to that.

Yuuri drops his fingers to the hilt of his knife and peers around the tree trunk. It would be safer to simply melt back into the trees and keep going, but the promise of news, information, the possibility of bartering for goods, is too strong to resist. Not that he’ll be able to tell whether this group is friendly or not by just looking, but a first impression, he’s learned, is often correct, and—

And—

Yuuri looks, and he can’t breathe.

The man standing at the front of the other group, turned to the side, talking to one of his companions — Yuuri would know that profile anywhere, that silver hair.

He stares, unbelieving, as hope blooms in him suddenly, unfamiliar, undeniable, bursting like a thousand suns, and his body is moving, running forward, crossing the open space.

“Viktor!”

Viktor turns, and _yes, it’s him_ , his eyes wide and startled, mouth open as he stares, shocked, as his lips form Yuuri’s name.

And then he’s running too, his eyes locked on Yuuri, only on Yuuri, and they meet in the middle of the road, colliding in a hard tangle of limbs. Yuuri pulls him close, his hands fisting in the rough material of Viktor’s jacket, and Viktor’s arms are around him as well, firm and tight and oh God, it’s him, it’s him.

“Yuuri,” Viktor is saying, his voice rough, “Yuuri, Yuuri,” and Yuuri is sobbing, holding on for dear life.

He pulls away a little bit, just enough so that he can see Viktor’s face, drink him in. He looks the same, a little tired, a little weathered, and there’s a scar on the side of his cheek that wasn’t there before, but he’s the same.

“Vitya,” Yuuri says, holding his face between his hands, still not entirely believing that he’s real, but he _is_ , he’s solid under Yuuri’s trembling fingers, “I thought,” he can’t speak, “I thought I lost you,” and Viktor kisses him, hard, desperate, so, so loving. Yuuri’s body shakes, his hand coming up to cradle Viktor’s head, his lips parting of their own accord.

“They all told me you were dead,” Viktor says, choked up, his hands framing Yuuri’s face, and kisses him again, like a drowning man.

Standing becomes too much, so they sink to the ground together, refusing to let go of each other. They’re both crying by this point, and Yuuri tries to wipe Viktor’s tears away, smiling as his own vision blurs.

“Vitya,” he says, the shape of it feeling impossible in his mouth, this man feeling impossible in his arms, “Vitya, I love you, God, I love you.”

“I love you too,” Viktor says, “so much,” and they’re kissing again, and Yuuri doesn’t care if this is a dream, doesn’t want to know, because this is the only thing that matters for the rest of his life.

It’s a long time later that Yuuri looks up to see that his people and Viktor’s people have crept cautiously out into the road, eyeing each other warily.

It turns out that they’re near Viktor’s camp, and Viktor invites them all to come — “Any friends of Yuuri’s are friends of mine,” he says, both his arms around Yuuri’s waist, and Yuuri can't take his eyes off him, like if he looks away Viktor will disappear.

Yuuri and Viktor don’t let go of each other for the entire rest of the day. Yuuri sits in Viktor’s lap as they eat their evening meal, and Viktor feeds him by hand.

“You’ve gotten too skinny, my Yuuri,” he says, and Yuuri manages a watery laugh, holding onto him, because he doesn’t want to be reminded of the months he spent apart from Viktor, refusing to believe that he was dead but fearing the worst nonetheless. Not knowing was the worst part. It would be better just to _know_ , he would tell himself, lying on his thin pallet, staring into the darkness as sleep evaded him.

And now — now, he lets go of the fear that’s been clenched tight below his ribcage. It’s the fear that one day he’d meet a corpse shambling out of the trees with Viktor’s hair and Viktor’s skin and nothing at all of Viktor behind its lifeless eyes. Or that he would find his body, broken and bloodied and at least dead for good, not rising again with a mindless hunger. Or, worst of all, that he would never find him, that their paths would never cross again and Yuuri would be left in limbo the whole rest of his life, never able to give up on hope, never able to fully grieve.

He’s almost forgotten what it’s like not to carry that fear around inside of him, and he feels so light, slowly relaxing as he accepts another bite of food and licks at Viktor’s fingers, as he curls into Viktor’s shoulder when he’s full and watches the firelight dancing across Viktor’s familiar, beloved features.

“Well, I’m exhausted,” Viktor announces a little later, coaxing Yuuri up off his lap and to his feet. “We’re turning in.”

They’re met with a chorus of “goodnights” from the six people around the campfire, and Viktor leads Yuuri to his tent, which is a little larger than the others and set a little farther apart.

“I’m not actually tired,” Viktor says, once they’ve crawled inside and pulled off their boots and are sitting on Viktor’s makeshift bed. “I just wanted time alone with you.”

“So do I,” Yuuri says, moving towards him, straddling his lap. Viktor’s hands slide up his thighs, and Yuuri shivers at the touch, suddenly a little shy. It’s been so long.

He reaches for the small solar charge lamp by Viktor’s sleeping roll and flicks it to the lowest setting, casting a dim glow over them.

“I want to see you,” he explains, and traces across the lines of Viktor’s face, following his fingers with gentle kisses. He lingers over the scar that’s new to him but already old, already healed over and faded. It pains him, that he missed this, that Viktor suffered and he wasn’t there.

“What happened here?” he asks, and Viktor catches his hand and holds it over his heart, looking up at him so tender and loving.

“An accident,” he says. “I was trying to rescue a little girl and I had to jump out a window.”

“Did you save her?”

“Yes.”

Yuuri’s heart swells, and he leans in to kiss him, reveling in the shape of his mouth, the taste of him. He slides Viktor’s jacket off his shoulders, imagining Viktor crashing through shards of glass, bleeding, a small child bundled in his arms, safe. Viktor kisses him back eagerly, desperately, leaning back on one arm to support himself while his other hand tangles in Yuuri’s hair. Yuuri slides their tongues together, licking hotly into his mouth as he works at the buttons of Viktor’s shirt, imagining all the scenarios that kept Viktor alive, whole, that brought him back into his arms, and his whole body thrills with such joy that he can hardly breathe.

When he finally manages to get Viktor’s shirt off, he has to take a moment to catch his breath, staring down at the sight of his husband half-naked underneath him. His _husband_ — he grabs Viktor’s hand, and no, he’s not dreaming, the ring is still there, and he laces their fingers together and kisses him again.

There’s a smattering of hair on Viktor’s chest and stomach, where there used to be none, and Yuuri runs his fingers over it, adoring every inch of him. Viktor smiles a little ruefully.

“Most of the waxing parlors are closed these days,” he says, and Yuuri can’t help but laugh, because he married this ridiculous man, and he found him again, and oh, God, he’s never going to let him go.

“I never gave up on you,” Yuuri says, as Viktor’s warm fingers creep under the hem of his shirt, and Yuuri raises his arms, letting Viktor pull it off over his head. “Never, Vitya,” because it suddenly seems important, “I never stopped believing that I’d find you.”

Except some part of him did, he’s realizing, some part of him dedicated to his own self defense _had_ started believing that Viktor was gone, to protect himself and harden his heart against his barren future, lacking all color and light. A part of him that’s melting, now, like snow in the spring, rushing away under Viktor’s lips and hands.

“I know,” Viktor whispers, kissing Yuuri’s chest, unbuttoning Yuuri’s pants, “my brave, strong Yuuri, I know you didn’t.”

Viktor moves to slip Yuuri’s pants and underwear off, and Yuuri lets him, and then goes to remove Viktor’s as well, wanting them both to be naked. He’s waited long enough. Viktor seems to have the same thought, lifting his hips so that Yuuri can get his clothes off, and then lying back against his single pillow, laid out bare before him. Yuuri’s breath catches, looking down at him, because he’s so, _so_ beautiful, he’d forgotten—

“What?” Viktor asks, his fingers curling around Yuuri’s wrist, a smile playing around his lips.

“You’re so beautiful,” Yuuri says, and leans down to kiss him, lying on top of him, skin to skin. Feeling Viktor warm and naked underneath him is like nothing he’s experienced in the past five months, and his whole body is shocked with it, sparking across his skin, thrumming like a live wire. Viktor is just the same, just as human, just as precious as Yuuri remembers, and his sense memory is waking up, remembering what it feels like to lie with Viktor like this, how amazing it is to feel him. And yet somehow it feels entirely new at the same time, something he thought he’d never get to have, and he wants to cry with all the emotion stretching his chest, welling up and overflowing.

Watching Viktor’s eyes flutter open when he pulls away is a gift. Yuuri drinks in the sight of his half-lidded eyes, his parted lips, and then rests his head on Viktor’s shoulder, his hand splayed widely over his side. He ignores his hardening cock for the moment, because there’s something important he wants to say before he gets to that.

“Vitya,” he starts, and Viktor kisses his forehead, squeezing Yuuri’s waist to show he’s listening.

“It’s a different world — there’s no guarantee you’ll be alive tomorrow, and so you start to live for the present,” he says. Yuuri had stopped planning for the future long ago, beyond _find Viktor_. Any future that didn’t have Viktor in it, he didn’t want any part of. “So — I mean — I just want you to know, I’m not upset, it doesn’t change anything between us, if— if you were with anyone else. Five months is a long time.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Viktor breathes, like he’d been punched in the stomach.

“We’re together now, that’s all that matters,” Yuuri finishes firmly.

Viktor props himself up on his elbow, dislodging Yuuri onto the pillow, and meets Yuuri’s eyes,  looking vulnerable and hurt.

“Is that really what you think of me, my love?” he asks softly.

“Of course not,” Yuuri breathes, reaching up to cradle Viktor’s cheek in his hand. “But I wanted to say it, just in case.”

“Ever since I met you,” Viktor says, and then stops, shaking his head. “You’re it for me, Yuuri. The only one. If I were to lose you for good, I’d lose myself too. I can’t—” he breaks off, sucking in a shuddering breath, and Yuuri pulls him close.

“Come here,” he murmurs, holding him so gently as Viktor cries into his shoulder, his body shaking. “Oh, Vitya, darling, it’s alright. I’m here now.”

“The only thing that kept me fighting was the thought of finding you,” Viktor says when his breaths quiet down, holding Yuuri tight. “It was all that got me out of bed in the mornings, some days.”

“You found me,” Yuuri says, running his fingers through Viktor’s hair, still so soft. “You’re so good, Vitya. So strong. You don’t need to fight anymore.”

“No,” Viktor says, his hands curling into Yuuri’s sides. “Now I have to. Now I have a reason to fight.”

“But for tonight,” Yuuri says, kissing Viktor’s head, stroking his back, “you can let it all go. I can take care of you, now.”

“Yuuri,” Viktor breathes, clinging to him.

“It’s the same for me, you know,” Yuuri says softly, tracing light patterns over his shoulder blades. “In my whole life, you’re the only one I want.”

Viktor leans up to kiss him, a soft, shuddering thing, and Yuuri eases him onto his back, leaning down to kiss him deeper. His cheeks are still wet with tears, and Yuuri kisses them away before moving down to suck on his neck, leaving a trail of marks as he kisses across his throat, shoulders, chest, dedicated to the task of re-learning every line of his body.

“Yuuri,” Viktor says again, more urgently this time, his hand cupping the back of Yuuri’s head, “oh, God, Yuuri.”

Yuuri takes Viktor’s nipple into his mouth and sucks at it lightly, teasing with his teeth, and Viktor hisses out a breath, arching a little underneath him.

Yuuri slides his hand down Viktor’s side to his hip and then wraps his fingers around his cock, and Viktor gasps, clutching at him. The weight is familiar in his hand, and Yuuri strokes him a couple of times, feeling him harden further.

“What can I do for you, Vitya?” Yuuri asks, before sucking on the sensitive spot under Viktor’s jaw. They don’t have any supplies, but Yuuri still has his body, and he wants to use it to make Viktor feel good.

“Just stay,” Viktor says, begging. He wraps his arms around Yuuri’s shoulders and his legs around Yuuri’s waist, clinging to him. “Stay close to me.”

“I’ll stay,” Yuuri says, “I promise.” He kisses him again, and Viktor is desperate and frantic, moaning into his mouth as Yuuri drags his hips against Viktor’s.

It feels — well, it’s _Viktor_ , anything would feel great, but even so, Yuuri’s a little shocked, and does it again, grinding into him, gasping at the delicious friction.

“Yuuri,” Viktor gasps, his heels digging into Yuuri’s thighs, pulling him closer. Yuuri bites at his lower lip, presses in with his tongue, holding his face as he rolls his hips, dragging their cocks together, close and hot.

“Yuuri, ah, I want you,” Viktor says, scrabbling at his back, and at least that’s something Yuuri can fulfill, so he leans down to suck another bruise into Viktor’s neck as he ruts against him, delighting in the soft, breathy noises he pulls out of him.

“Yuu- _uuri_ ,” Viktor breathes, and oh, it’s been so long since Yuuri has heard his name said like that, said by Viktor, and something inside him breaks, or maybe comes together again. Unshatters.

“Vitya,” Yuuri answers him, kissing each of his eyelids. “My good, sweet Vitya. You’re _here_.”

Viktor splays his hand between Yuuri’s shoulder blades and then cradles his head with both hands, pulling him down so that he can mark up Yuuri as well, and Yuuri moans a little at the sweet ache of Viktor’s mouth on his neck, whimpering into Viktor’s shoulder as his hips move. A weight lifts off him, and it's a big weight to let go of, but it's going, evaporating under Viktor's touch and leaving Yuuri light and floating.

“Yuuri,” Viktor whispers, in between the bruises he’s making on Yuuri’s skin, “my love,” a kiss along the top of his shoulder, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Yuuri says, so sincerely he thinks he might fall apart, and he pulls away so that he can look into Viktor’s eyes, which are tender and blown wide and filling with tears.

Yuuri smiles uncontrollably and brushes Viktor’s hair out of his face and doesn’t tell him not to cry. He finds Viktor’s hand and kisses his ring, never breaking eye contact, and then laces their fingers together on the pillow next to Viktor’s head, leaning his weight on his elbows as he wipes Viktor’s tears away with his thumb.

“I love you,” he says again, and Viktor smiles softly, brow furrowed with emotion, still gazing at him like Yuuri is all the stars combined. He reaches up with his other hand and touches Yuuri’s face, gently, like he can’t believe it, and Yuuri can feel his own tears welling up now, hot and sharp. Viktor’s face blurs and refracts into light, and Yuuri blinks hard to refocus on him, feeling a tear slip away down his cheek.

Viktor brushes it away, his touch impossibly soft, and Yuuri has to kiss him again, although he’s not very good at kissing when his breath is already choppy and hitching. It doesn’t matter, though, because Viktor wants him, all of him, the messy and sloppy and ugly parts included.

“I can’t believe,” Yuuri starts, and then stops, because it’s too big a statement to finish out loud. _I can’t believe I lost you. I can’t believe I found you_.

“I know,” Viktor says, his voice catching, his hand curled around the nape of Yuuri’s neck. Yuuri feels held. Protected in a way he’d thought he couldn’t feel anymore. He reaches down between them and wraps a hand around both their cocks, stroking them together, and Viktor gasps and jerks against him, clutching harder, squeezing his thighs tighter around Yuuri’s waist. Viktor still gets just as slick as Yuuri remembers, and the thought makes him tear up a little more.

“Vitya,” he breathes, gasping, closing his eyes and leaning his forehead against Viktor’s. He'd thought that he'd never get to have this again. Viktor holds him close, his hands warm on Yuuri’s back, little mewling noises caught in his throat.

“I need you,” Yuuri chokes out, and Viktor keens, clinging to him, driving his hips up into Yuuri’s hand.

“You have me, you have me,” he gasps, kissing Yuuri’s neck, jaw, lips, all of him that he can reach.

“Oh, God, Vitya,” Yuuri groans, squeezing harder around their cocks as he works them together, and Viktor's hand joins his, fingers overlapping, stroking them in tandem. “I love you, I—”

“My love,” Viktor answers him, cradling Yuuri’s head, comforting him, letting his gasp against his neck as he brings them closer to the edge.

Viktor cries out when he comes, Yuuri’s name on his lips, and Yuuri presses a trembling kiss to his neck and follows soon after, spilling in the space between them. Afterwards, Viktor holds him and kisses him, and Yuuri can’t think of any heaven better than this.

“How are you always so good to me, my Yuuri?” Viktor asks, watching him softly as he traces his fingers across Yuuri’s skin.

“You’re easy to be good to,” Yuuri murmurs in reply, and Viktor hums a soft laugh before pulling him in for another lazy kiss. He scratches his fingers through Yuuri’s hair and Yuuri sighs contentedly, letting his head fall down next to Viktor’s. Viktor reaches over him for a rag to clean them both up, and then balls it up and tosses it to the side, settling down and drawing the thin blanket over both of them. He turns onto his side, facing Yuuri, and Yuuri copies him, clasping their hands between them, heads resting just inches apart on the single pillow.

Yuuri doesn’t want to think about Viktor sleeping here alone, flat on his back, one pillow and one blanket, waking up lonely, so he kisses him again instead, resting his arm over Viktor’s waist and pulling him closer. Viktor cups Yuuri’s cheek with his hand and lightly brushes his hair out of his face when they break apart.

“I missed you,” he says simply, smiling sweetly, and Yuuri knows that’s the understatement of the century — this is the same Viktor who could barely handle five days apart, when they were living in St. Petersburg and Yuuri flew to London to film a commercial. It seems like another lifetime.

“I missed you, too,” Yuuri says, thumbing lightly across Viktor’s cheek, and pulls him in for a soft kiss, which turns into another, and another, their legs tangled together under the thin blanket.

They barely sleep at all. Yuuri doesn’t want to stop looking at Viktor, afraid that if he goes to sleep he might wake up to find that this was all a dream.

“What happened to the little girl? The one you saved?” Yuuri asks a little later on, cuddled up against him, his leg thrown over Viktor’s hips, his head pillowed on Viktor’s chest. He can hear Viktor’s heartbeat, deep and steady.

Viktor sighs, his thumb rubbing circles into Yuuri’s side, and Yuuri fears the worst. He hadn’t seen any children in Viktor’s group of survivors.

“Her name is Katya,” Viktor says, and Yuuri is comforted by the present tense. “We made it to a refugee camp and I found her parents. They were… so happy to see her. Tears on all sides, holding her.” Yuuri feels Viktor’s lips brush his hair, and he can imagine Viktor watching that tearful reunion, jaw clenched, knuckles white, with no reunion of his own. Even after so much time apart, he can read Viktor’s silences as well as his words.

“They were so grateful,” Viktor continues. “They wanted to take me in, but I told them I couldn’t stay, there was someone I was looking for.” He pauses again, his lips pressed to Yuuri’s head. “I searched the whole camp, but you weren’t there. No one had seen you. I stayed with Katya’s family for a little while, hoping that you would arrive the next day, or the next, but that’s a terrible way to live. So I left again. That was almost three months ago.” He pulls Yuuri closer, his hand tightening on his side. “You didn’t get there after I was gone, did you?”

“No,” Yuuri says. “I never made it to a refugee camp.”

“Good,” Viktor breathes into his hair. “I would never forgive myself if I’d missed you.”

Yuuri knows what it’s like, to search like that. Every group of survivors he’d come across, he’d be the first one talking, pointing to his ring and asking, “Have you seen my husband?” before rattling off his description of Viktor. He’d gotten it down to one compact sentence by the second month.

No one had seen him. He never stopped asking.

“You have me now,” Yuuri says, closing his eyes, spreading his palm flat against Viktor’s chest. _You have me, forever_. Whatever forever means, in this world, Viktor has him.

He thinks back to their wedding, the vows they made. _Till death do us part_. Life had parted them for a while, but then brought them back together. Funny how things work out like that, Yuuri thinks hazily.

“Yuuri?” Viktor asks, stroking his hair. “Are you asleep?”

“No,” Yuuri murmurs sleepily.

“I don’t want to go to sleep,” Viktor says, and then yawns hugely. “I want to keep talking to you.”

“Me too,” Yuuri says, pressing a kiss to Viktor’s skin without moving his head.

He falls asleep anyway, draped over Viktor, feeling safe for the first time in months.

He wakes up to sunlight flooding over them, lying on his skin like a second blanket. The first thing he notices is that he’s hot, and a bit sticky and sweaty, and he almost doesn’t register the second body lying under the covers with him at first. It just feels so right, so normal, but then his brain catches up and he recognizes the unfamiliar tent bathed in morning light, and he turns towards Viktor, who is curled around him, still sleeping, and his heart feels like it swells three sizes in one beat. There’s not enough room inside of him, to hold all of this feeling.

“Vitya,” Yuuri whispers, and kisses Viktor’s cheeks and lips until he wakes up, blue eyes blinking open slowly and then widening, hands wrapping urgently around his arms.

“Good morning,” Yuuri says, smiling so widely his cheeks hurt.

“Yuuri,” Viktor says, shooting up and enveloping Yuuri in a huge hug. “Yuuri, oh my God, you’re here.”

“I’m here,” Yuuri says, positioning himself more comfortably in Viktor’s lap, letting his fingers creep up Viktor’s back as he leans in to kiss him properly. “It wasn’t a dream, I’m really here.”

Viktor returns his kiss and then buries his face in Yuuri’s shoulder and holds him for a long time. Yuuri lets himself be held, almost drifting off to sleep again in Viktor’s embrace, safe and loved.

They spend a long time after that just touching each other, swapping sweet, slow kisses, and then Yuuri gives Viktor a morning blowjob and discovers that he’s a little out of practice but that Viktor goes wild for him anyway.

“That was amazing, Yuuri,” Viktor says afterwards, clasping his arms around Yuuri’s waist.

“I’m a little rusty,” Yuuri admits, suddenly shy, nuzzling in against his neck. “I need to practice.”

“Hm, and who will you practice on?” Viktor asks, squeezing his waist playfully, and Yuuri can hear the smile in his voice.

“I don’t know,” he says, teasing. “There are so many strapping young men to choose from.”

“Yuuuuuuri,” Viktor complains, hiding his face in Yuuri’s hair. “Don’t tease me like that.”

“Don’t worry,” Yuuri says. “Your dick is the only dick for me.”

“Such a romantic,” Viktor murmurs, and kisses him again.

They dress slowly, helping each other, completely unnecessary but sensual and lovely. Viktor pulls Yuuri’s shirt over his head and slides the hem down his torso, only to immediately stick his fingers underneath it again and ruck it up to Yuuri’s armpits as he feels him up, kissing him deeply.

A little later, Viktor has his pants on but is still shirtless, examining the scattered hickies on his neck and shoulders and chest with his small shaving mirror.

“I love these,” he announces, looking over his shoulder at Yuuri, who is putting on his socks. “Yuuri, I don’t want them to fade.”

“I can give you more,” Yuuri says, draping his arms over Viktor’s shoulders from behind and softly kissing one of the larger marks on his neck.

It’s mid-morning by the time they emerge from the tent, holding hands, refusing to let go of each other for a moment.

“So, how did you meet Yuuri?” Viktor asks Marya and Alexei over breakfast, his arms around Yuuri, his smile like a heart.

“He rescued us,” Marya answers immediately, putting down her spoon. “Our car broke down and there were five of them outside. We couldn't get out. Then Yuuri came out of nowhere and took out _all_ of them.”

“We owe him our lives,” Alexei agrees. “I owe him my daughter’s life.”

“It's what anyone would have done,” Yuuri mumbles.

“It's not,” Marya insists.

“Your husband is an angel,” Alexei says to Viktor, very seriously. “And the first thing he did after making sure we were okay was to ask if we'd seen you. You're very lucky.”

“I know,” Viktor says, equally serious, before pulling Yuuri closer and planting a kiss on his cheek. Yuuri giggles, holding onto his arm, and gazes up at him until he notices Marya staring at him.

“What?” he asks her, wondering if he has something on his face.

“Nothing,” she says, turning back to her food.

Later, she pulls Yuuri aside, out of earshot of the others.

“I just wanted to say thank you,” she says. “For, um, everything you've done for us.”

“Are you leaving?” Yuuri asks, confused. He doesn’t want her to go — he’s only just gotten her somewhere relatively safe.

“No,” she says. “Just— I can tell how unhappy you were, the past few months. But you’ve taken such good care of us despite that. Seeing you with him— I'm just really happy for you, Yuuri.” She pulls him into a sudden, brief hug, and then releases him, quickly walking away back towards the others.

Yuuri follows more slowly, something warm unfurling in his chest.

Viktor turns and sees him and beams, holding out his arms, and Yuuri goes to him. He nestles in against Viktor’s chest and Viktor’s arms close around him, and the warm thing seeps through him, saturating the world in color.

**Author's Note:**

> I found this [homecoming waltz](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1eMFof5Zupw), which made me tear up a bit & seems entirely appropriate to be the official anthem of this fic.
> 
> I have ideas for more installments in this universe, so if you want me to write more, let me know! I may make this into a series if people are interested. 
> 
> come yell with me on tumblr at [softboyyuuri](http://softboyyuuri.tumblr.com) and [yuurispasteldildo](http://yuurispasteldildo.tumblr.com) (nsfw)! :)
> 
> EDIT: wow, thank you so much for the overwhelming positive feedback!! <3 I honestly wasn't expecting so many people to be so excited about this story, as it's a pretty niche genre. Thank you all so SO much for the incredibly kind comments :') 
> 
> I will definitely continue this series! 
> 
> And to answer some questions:  
> 1) This does take place in canonverse, probably 4-6 years after the end of the series. Yuuri and Viktor are both retired, but don't have any kids yet.  
> 2) The whole YOI cast is safe and alive - I was serious when I said no one dies! But obviously phones aren't exactly working, so they can't communicate long distance.  
> 3) We will absolutely get to see how Viktor's people react as well :)


End file.
